


Monsters in Your Head (Demons in Your Bed)

by Snow



Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Christmas Spirit, Earnestness, First Kiss, M/M, Trees, persistance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snow/pseuds/Snow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A shippy fic, for Testament</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monsters in Your Head (Demons in Your Bed)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heavensgardener (laskaris)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laskaris/gifts).



"Go _away_ ," Testament growls, but the man in his forest stands his ground, like the worst of the trespassing humans. "You have no business here."

"I do," the man says, still clothed in the brilliantly white of the Order uniform, even this many years after the battle is over. The uniform is as impractical as ever. _It shows when people have been injured, and where_ , Testament had been told once, and it's a ridiculous thing to need, because people should know when they're cut, shouldn't need the evidence of blood to make them rest, but that had been before his own powers, and also before Ky Kiske and his stubborn insistence on continuing when he should stop.

Testament growls, this time without any words behind the noise, but Ky doesn't flinch, and impossibly straightens his spine even further.

"I don't want to fight you," he says, and that's such bullshit, because there's an easy way for him to avoid doing that, and that's to stay out of Testament's space, out of the grove that he's sworn to protect. "Not today."

Testament takes the bait, because he doesn't understand Ky, and he won't know if this is a trap or not, but it doesn't seem like the kind of trap that can hurt him. (Rather a silly idea, if anyone asked Testament, but Ky certainly doesn't seem to care about his opinion. "What's today."

Ky blinks, all blond earnestness and a half-smile that says he thinks he has an explanation that will make Testament relax. "It's Christmas."

"And?" Testament asks. Ky's face falls a little, but it's only as much as he should expect, as much as he deserves for coming here like this.

"I didn't think that you should have to be alone here." Ky's mouth keeps moving to start to form a d, and Testament cuts him off before he can say something trite and stupid like 'Dizzy misses you' or 'Dizzy's getting presents from Johnny's crew, and she wants you to be happy too'.

"That's how I want it." He doesn't need a human's pity, or his concern.

"I came all this way with a fruit cake, and you're not even going to agree to share it with me?" Ky asks, and there's something soft about it, something like hope more so than stubbornness.

Testament wonders for a moment if Ky has anyone to spend the holiday with, anywhere other than a church to go to be with people -- he can't, or he wouldn't choose to be here -- but he shoves the thought away. "I'm not," he says. " _Go_."

Ky does.

* * *

It's two months of quiet -- or at least where the only breaking of his peace are the kind of people that can be scared away with a dramatic noise or the occasional personal appearance -- before Ky next decides to show up, and Testament can honestly say that he's spent very little of his time thinking about the man. Dizzy's another story, but even if Ky does know how she's doing, Testament is too proud to ask.

"I hope you're not here to wish me a good St. Valentine's day," Testament says.

Ky's emotions play out over his face in slow motion -- bemusement followed by surprise -- and then a fleeting hint of pleasure, gone so fast, particularly compared to the other two, that Testament wonders if Ky even knows it was there. The faintest tint of pink embarrassment colors his cheeks now. "No. I wouldn't impose if that were the reason."

Testament wonders if that means that Ky's learned his lesson about dropping by, or just isn't interested in fixing Testament being alone on this day.

"I wanted to ask a favor," Ky continues, and Testament braces himself. Those words together can't be a good thing. "Dizzy--"

"No," Testament says, because she's elsewhere, and that's the end of it.

"Dizzy is worried about you," Ky continues, because if there's one thing the ex-commander has in abundance it's persistence.

"No."

"You can write her or you can put up with visits from me weekly."

If Testament knew Ky any less well, he would be shocked at the nerve of him. "I will put up with nothing of the sort."

Ky has to stumble away from the fight, hand clutching the wound in his left side, but he still comes back the next week.

* * *

It's six weeks and six visits before Testament says anything other than a command to vacate, and he regrets it immediately. "What are you telling her about me?"

"That you're grouchy but relatively unbothered, except by me."

It's the answer that Testament should have expected, Ky too honest to lie and too noble to want to say anything more than that.

* * *

"You could save us both the time and the injuries and leave now," Testament suggests, because surely even Ky has to admit by now that he's not learning anything more than that Testament is still alive, and that he can do that without an actual interaction.

"And you could make it worth my while by having a conversation." Testament doesn't think he appreciated the depths of Ky's stubbornness before, and he still wouldn't say that appreciation is the right word, but he does recognize it.

"What would I say?" What Testament means is that he doesn't have anything he wants to say to Ky, but the boy considers it far too seriously, as if he thinks it a concession.

"Whatever you want. If that's nothing, I can talk instead."

* * *

Ky doesn't seem much more inclined to talk about himself than Testament is, but given the opportunity he still has plenty to say, telling Testament about books he's read and buildings he's seen, not needing to be told that Testament would prefer those to the stories about people Ky has met.

"I haven't read that one," Testament says when Ky finishes one day and starts to get up from where he'd been sitting on the ground.

Ky's face is as transparent as ever, and Testament braces himself for the question of which poems he has read. Ky must be getting better at holding his tongue, because he says instead, "I'll bring you a copy. Despite the flaws, it's really very good."

* * *

It's not a subtle thing, the way that Ky suddenly starts being careful to never look directly at Testament. The Gear is far from considering himself his friend, but it's still a shock, and one that stings the tiniest bit. Has he been reduced to being a monster again, or is there something more?

"I'll see you next Tuesday," Testament says when Ky rises, eyes fixed on the base of the tree Testament is resting in.

"Tomorrow is Christmas," Ky says, and Testament lifts his eyebrows, unseen.

"And?"

"If you don't like fruitcake, I can bring something else."

"Fruitcake is fine."

* * *

It snows that night, and Ky looks cold enough, even wrapped up in the Order's winter cloak, that Testament lets himself feel pity and invite him up into Testament's tree of choice at the moment.

"I can't," Ky says, and that's an entirely different thing than 'I don't want to', no matter how fond Testament himself is of confusing the two.

"You can't share from down there," Testament says.

To his surprise, Ky yields, clambering up the tree with the hilt of his sword poking into his side and the fruitcake wrapped in foil balanced carefully in one hand.

He sits far enough on the sturdy branch that Testament would have to lean way in. He scoots closer instead, and keeps doing it until Ky is backed up against the trunk.

"Thank you," Testament says after the first bite, when it turns out that the cake is fairly good.

"No one should have to be entirely alone today," Ky says, and he's close enough for the lack of eye contact to be decidedly irritating.

Testament reaches out and takes hold of his chin, turning the other man's head toward him. "Including you?"

Ky's cheeks flare bright red, but he doesn't pull away. Testament wonders when the last time he was touched, remembers the last time that he himself touched anyone (like this, whatever this is supposed to be).

"No, I--"

"Shh," Testament says with a huff, and leans in to kiss the other man.

Ky's eyes flicker shut for just an instant when lips touch lips, and then he's jerking back, hands thrown wide but balance disrupted enough that his fall from the tree is the least startling part of it.

At least they weren't that high up.

* * *

Ky does come back on Tuesday, and Testament is surprised enough that he has to ask Ky to repeat the words he doesn't catch.

"I want to say that I'm sorry," he says, and Testament wants to ask him to repeat himself again, because that doesn't make any sense.

"For falling out of a tree."

"For leading you on."

Testament hopes his face is as flat as he feels, even if Ky has gone back to studiedly not looking at him. "That's not what happened."

"I-- I clearly acted in an inappropriate manner."

"Hmn. If you want to deny your own desires, that's one thing, but don't deny mine." Testament swings himself up into a tree then, and whatever he might have said it's gratifying to glance back at Ky's face and see how he'd followed the movement of Testament's pale leg.

"If you decide that you don't want to deny your wants, I will be here. Until then, stay away."

* * *

Testament doesn't expect Ky to listen to him, and he wishes that he'd chosen a different topic to be obedient on.

* * *

The leaves of the grove are sticky with summer heat the day that Ky returns, and the man's uniform is plastered to him with sweat.

"Hoping that I'd forgotten?" Testament asks.

"No, I-- I can't stop remembering," Ky says. He keeps sneaking nervous glances at Testament's face, and Testament can't decide if that's an improvement or not. Definitely an improvement over not seeing Ky at all, and Testament winces at himself for that thought.

"And you think that is my fault?"

"I--" Ky takes a deep breath, and Testament decides that he can be patient for at least long enough to hear him out. "You said to come back when I knew what I wanted."

"And?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

Testament is cruel enough to simply look blankly at Ky, to force him to come out and say it.

"I can't stop thinking about it," Ky says. "About you. I want-- What I should not, and yet." Ky bites his lip, and Testament finds himself drawn to the movement, to the paleness around the impact site and the sight of the blood rushing back in. "I would make you happy, if you would let me."

Testament bites back the urge to laugh, because that seems even more naive than confusing physical lust for a declaration of love. "You may try."

Ky takes that as encouragement rather than anything else, and he steps forward to catch Testament's hand in his.

Testament is startled enough to allow it, and then flooded by too much warmth to pull away.


End file.
